


this must be the place

by quadrille



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Exhaustion, Gen, Home, One Shot, Post-Movie(s), Post-Ragnarok, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-01 08:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12701589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quadrille/pseuds/quadrille
Summary: He hadn’t even noticed her appearing by his side until she gently settled on the arm of his captain’s chair, an elbow draped over the back, as comfortable as if she belonged in this seat herself.Probably she did.“Want to be my co-pilot?” he asked, smiling but entirely serious.





	this must be the place

It had been a long day.

He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d slept — pillowed in those enormous, decadent sheets at the Grandmaster’s colosseum and in a bed built for someone even bigger than him, yes, but how long ago had that been? They’d escaped prison and jumped worlds since then, poured themselves through a vortex and emerged in the middle of a war, and watched Asgard…

Thor’s jaw clenched, and he turned back to the console in front of him.

He’d been learning the workings of this ship; it was large enough that any wobbles in course correction weren’t noticed by the refugees, and artificial gravity always kept them firmly rooted to the floor, no matter how much it tilted at his hand. Eventually, drawn by the allure of something to criticise, Loki popped up at his shoulder: “Are you _really_ sure you’re qualified to fly this thing? I somehow think you’re going to fly us right into the nearest red dwarf. I think you need professional supervision.”

“Go bother someone else,” Thor said, flapping a hand dismissively, heavy brow creased with concentration.

He worked at it for a while with Korg’s help (“Try that one, mate. Or how about that one? Oh — oh no — no, forget I said that, looks like we’re leaking fuel out into the… oh.”) but, in the end, it was the Valkyrie who was the most assistance. (Of course she was.) He hadn’t even noticed her appearing by his side until she gently settled on the arm of his captain’s chair, an elbow draped over the back, as comfortable as if she belonged in this seat herself.

Probably she did.

“Want to be my co-pilot?” he asked, smiling but entirely serious.

“I’ll take it under consideration. Have you even flown a ship this size before?”

“Yes,” he said, defensively. Then, thinking back to the Commodore and even the long-ago Dark Elf ship veering catastrophically while he and his brother squabbled, he amended: “Well, no. They were all… smaller.”

The droll look she gave him, then, made him feel about two feet tall, which was exactly what he liked about her.

“I always flew by myself with Mjölnir. There was no need for any of…” He waved a hand. “This. I could fly the Quinjet, and the Grandmaster’s orgy ship. This one is just slightly more complex. I can make do.”

“It’s got an autopilot, anyway.” Valkyrie thumbed one of the switches, an answering light clicked on, and the ship’s trajectory steadied further. “You could give it a rest for now, pick it up again tomorrow.”

“It isn’t time to retire yet.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s no such thing as dawn or dusk in space.” Her voice was dry, seemingly joking, but there was a touch of pain beneath it. “We’re not on Asgard anymore.”

“Oh.” Thor blinked his one eye, looking back out at the colourful expanse unfurling beyond the window. He hadn’t actually considered that. He would’ve been here for hours more, instinctively working himself into exhaustion, waiting for a sunset and nighttime that weren’t ever coming. “Well then.” He braced one hand against the console and slowly rose to his feet, spine straight (aware that some of the Asgardians hadn’t gone to find quarters yet; they were still within view, milling about on the bridge, reluctant to forsake the safety of crowds).

Now that he was on his feet, however, a cacophony of complaints and injuries were finally making themselves known. He was a god, but he’d been fighting gods — he expected that when he unbuckled his armour, he’d find a whole latticework of bruises, not to mention the halo of pain radiating out from where his eye used to be. He touched the edge of the eyepatch, again, as if reassuring himself that the patch was still there. He had not imagined it.

“Do you need any help?” Valkyrie asked quietly; soft and low enough for only him to hear.

“No,” Thor said, lurching away from the chair and starting the long walk to the quarters he’d scoped out for himself earlier (with no clear requirements save that they be on the opposite side of the ship from Loki). “But I would appreciate some… company, for the walk.”

It would have to do. But Valkyrie understood, without another word — and so she simply took up position beside him, walking in sync with him, where he could settle one hand companionably on her shoulder, not letting on how heavily he leaned on her. 

She leaned into the touch, pushing back and giving him something steady to support himself by. They walked easily together, as if on a stroll around the gardens.

She had, after all, carried her share of warriors.


End file.
